


Supernova

by PanicAtTheEverywhere (DapperMuffin)



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders Needs a Hug, Blood, Blood and Injury, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders Angst, Crying, Eventual Happy Ending, M/M, Stabbing, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-09
Updated: 2019-10-21
Packaged: 2020-11-28 12:06:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20966288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DapperMuffin/pseuds/PanicAtTheEverywhere
Summary: Virgil knew that falling in love with a spy would come back to bite him in the ass. (It did. Hard.)





	1. Pretend Like Everything is Fine

Virgil knew that falling in love with a spy would come back to bite him in the ass. (It did. Hard.)

Roman frequently disappeared to God-knows-where on a mission. Did Virgil say frequently? He meant every other day. Usually, however, Roman returned in a day or two. This time he'd been gone a week, verging on a week and a half. This time, someone—presumably another secret agent—had called Virgil to tell him that Roman's last mission had gone south, and he was officially declared MIA and presumed dead. The person who'd called Virgil, even underneath all of the voice modifications, sounded sympathetic, which only tightened the knot in his stomach.

"He put your number as his emergency contact," the caller told Virgil, who swallowed with some difficulty. "Sorry again. I hate being the bearer of bad news, but what can I do?" They hung up.

Virgil's eyes were swollen when the doorbell finally rang. He rubbed at his eyes, standing unsteadily before he staggered over to the door.

Virgil was met with his friend's bright blue eyes and wild brown curls, and he didn't waste a second before throwing his arms around his friend's shoulders.

"Patton." Virgil sounded choked, like he was struggling not to cry, and when he pulled away, the first thing Patton noticed was how red his eyes looked.

"Hey, Virge," Patton said with a half-grimace. "I heard about Ro— about what happened. Are you doing okay? Have you been crying?"

Virgil laughed, but it was shaky. "Oh, yeah, I'm doing just peachy. I'm totally not scared out of my mind for him."

"Let's go inside," suggested Patton gently, placing a hand on Virgil's back to steer him inside.

They ended up on the couch, Virgil's back pressed up against Patton's chest, Patton's arms wrapped around Virgil's waist.

"How are you doing?" mumbled Virgil. "You're his best friend."

Patton frowned. "I'm okay, honestly. You seem to be taking it worse."

Virgil turned, swiveling to face Patton. "What do you know? Did they tell you anything?"

"Not much, just that the mission went badly and he's MIA." Patton held up his hands defensively. "Besides, if they told anyone anything, I'm sure it would've been you."

"What do you mean?" asked Virgil slowly.

"Well, I mean, what with his feelings for you…" Patton trailed off at the look on Virgil's face. "You… You don't know, do you? He never told you."

"Told me what?" Virgil sat up straight, hands braced against Patton's shoulders, brown eyes ablaze.

Patton adjusted his glasses. "He… I, uh… I'm not sure it's mine to tell, Vee—"

"Tell me! He's MIA anyway, might be dead!" Virgil was frantic now. "Whatever it is, I'm sure he wouldn't mind!"

Patton sighed. "Well, alright then, if you put it that way. Roman… he really liked you. He told me once he could never tell you because being a spy is dangerous, and he didn't want it to hurt you if something were to happen to him."

Virgil sat back, a shocked chuckle escaping his mouth. "I don't believe it. All this time… and he didn't want to hurt me if he disappeared? He didn't think it would hurt me either way?"

"I don't know, Virge." Patton shook his head. "I'm really sorry, but I've got to go call Logan. I'm fairly certain neither of them know yet, and they're his brothers. I doubt this will go well." Patton stood, stretching. He pulled his phone from his pocket, dialing a number as he walked towards the kitchen.

Virgil flopped backward to lay face-up on the couch, staring at the ceiling. It had been bad enough before, but this new information changed everything.

They'd gone for a long walk through the woods by Roman's house, he and Roman, just a day before he went missing. Roman had stopped every few feet to pick flowers and sing songs from Snow White and Sleeping Beauty. Virgil had rolled his eyes the whole time, trying to hide how much he'd actually enjoyed it, but when Roman had begun reciting lines from Romeo and Juliet, and, he thought, one or two from Hamlet, twirling a rose between his fingers, Virgil had let a genuine smile escape.

Virgil hadn't even considered that it may have been a date—had it been a date? Would he ever find out?

Roman had walked Virgil home, and, upon reaching their destination, had twirled the red rose between his fingers one more time. Then, making eye contact the whole time, he'd wrapped Virgil's fingers around the flower before bringing Virgil's hand up to his mouth to brush his lips across the emo's knuckles. Virgil didn't think he'd breathed until he was safely inside his house and Roman had begun to walk away.

Looking back, he supposed that part had seemed almost like a date.

From the kitchen, he heard an (only slightly muffled) yell of, as far as he could tell, "He WHAT?" Judging by the muffled sound, Logan wasn't even on speakerphone, he was just loud, and Virgil worried for Patton's hearing.

After a minute, Patton came back from the kitchen. He kept repeatedly sticking a finger in one of his ears, and Virgil could've sworn he'd muttered, "At this rate, I'm going to lose my hearing early."

"Did it go well?" Virgil asked.

Patton exhaled heavily, sitting down next to Virgil. "You could say that. Logan's on his way over now. Well, he'll tell Remus, and then they'll both come."

Virgil closed his eyes, rubbing at his temples. He didn't want to deal with this, not today. While Loan was usually on the quieter side, he could be loud when it came to something he cared about, and Remus— Remus was truly Roman's twin; loud and dramatic. Ninety percent of the time, the two were at each other's throats, but Virgil had always suspected that they got along better than they pretended to. After all, both were skilled actors—he'd witnessed that first-person.

Virgil felt Patton begin to massage his shoulders, and while he appreciated it, he didn't have much energy left to react. He made a small noise of appreciation instead.

"I know you're tired," Patton said softly, "but please. Please just bear with it? Don't leave me to deal with them on my own."

"Fine," Virgil replied, eyes still closed.

A loud knock sounded a few minutes later, and Patton stood to answer the door. The two remaining brothers entered. Logan's quiet, evenly-paced footsteps halted in front of Virgil, while Remus' larger, lurching steps stayed by the door.

"Is he alright?" asked Logan's voice, presumably in reference to Virgil.

"I'm fine, just tired." Virgil blinked his eyes open to meet Logan's gray-almost-lavender ones.

Logan's eyes were familiar, but the way he was gazing at Virgil was not.

"Hey, w-why are you looking at me like that?" Suddenly self-conscious, he played with a loose string on the end of his sleeve.

Logan shook his head, as if resurfacing from his thoughts, and moved back. "My apologies. It's nothing." _That was odd._

Virgil pulled his jacket closer around him, seeking some kind of tactile comfort in the familiar garment. He paid no attention to the conversation between the other three, even as their voices rose, instead drifting further into his thoughts. He wished he could curl up under a blanket and pretend like everything was fine.


	2. I Love You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: blood, stab wound, stabbing mention
> 
> Sorry for the delay on this chapter. I posted this on Tumblr at least a week ago, and then I forgot about posting it here! Also, 9Teyya_Winterbound6, thank you for the lengthy comment on the last chapter, and it made me realize I wrote Logan in a suspicious way? But I promise he's just worried, and he swings wildly between yelling and badly hiding his worry.

A full three weeks had passed since Roman had gone missing, and a week and a half had passed since he'd been declared MIA. Virgil had slowly lost more and more hope, and with the dwindling of his hope, so dwindled his will to do anything more than just survive.

Virgil stayed in bed until noon every day, even on the days when he woke up before 6AM, and when the latter happened, he made no effort to fall back asleep. He stopped showering, only stopping to wipe deodorant under his arms. The only thing he ate was cereal, usually dry, but if he'd had a particular burst of energy, he might add milk.

The first week Virgil had done this, Patton had come over every day to check on him, but also to beg him to take care of himself. The last few days, however, Patton had stopped coming.

Virgil's stomach rumbled, and he paused his TV show, dragging himself into a standing slump before moping off into the kitchen in search of food.

He glanced around for the cereal box—there it was, on the table. He hadn't bothered to put it away last time, figuring it was less work this way. He picked up a bowl—purposefully not looking at the growing mound of dirty dishes in the sink—setting it on the table to pour cereal into it.

Nothing came out of the box except for a few small, broken pieces of cereal. Virgil looked into the box to confirm that it was, indeed, empty. He sighed heavily. He'd have to go to the store.

But not before showering. He wrinkled his nose.

Virgil had to admit to himself that showering felt refreshing, and he probably should've done that sooner.

He applied more concealer than usual to hide the bags under his eyes, but didn't bother with the usual dark smear he so often applied. He brushed his teeth for the first time in a while, hoping to counteract the bad breath that comes of not brushing one's teeth in several weeks.

Virgil returned from the store twenty minutes later. He frowned—he was sure he'd locked the top lock as well as the knob, so why was the top lock unlocked?

He proceeded with caution, removing his sneakers by the door as he always did—but whose shoes were those next to his own, splattered with blood?

Heart beating faster, Virgil crept slowly down the hall towards the open doorway of the kitchen. He took a deep breath in an attempt to steady his quivering hands.

He entered the kitchen—and stopped. He stared, dark eyes wide, disbelieving.

There was a figure, male, tall, handsome, using the wall of Virgil's kitchen for support as he leaned on it. He had wavy dark brown hair, pale brown skin, and tired green eyes that, despite the exhaustion they conveyed, still lit up when they saw Virgil. He was clutching at his stomach, trying to stop the blood coming from the wound in his side, judging by the large bloodstain, and a thin line of blood dribbled from the corner of his mouth.

"Virgil!" the man cried, smiling despite the pain clearly written across his face, and Virgil finally let out the strangled cry he'd been barely holding in. He barrelled towards the man, stopping just short of him to gently wrap his arms around the man's torso.

"Roman," he breathed, taking in the scent he was so familiar with, one he thought he'd never smell again—one tainted by the copper smell of blood. "I thought you were dead! ...they told me you died." He pulled back to look Roman in the face. "You don't have to tell me what happened—I know you can't say—but you're, uh... you're really bleeding. You should go to a hospital or something—"

"No!" interrupted Roman, clutching at Virgil's arm pleasingly. "Please, they'd ask questions, and I— I'm not allowed to..."

"Oh, right," Virgil winced. "I'll— let me call Logan, then."

Logan wasted no time getting there. He arrived just five and a half minutes later, the top few buttons of his shirt undone, tie loose around his neck, hair wild as if he'd been running his hands through it when he'd stopped at red lights. His eyes landed on Roman, and he stood there panting for a moment until he could catch his breath.

Logan strode over to Roman. "You're an idiot," he remarked, ripping open Roman's already ruined shirt. "I always tell you to be careful, and instead you go and get yourself stabbed." Despite the biting words, his tone was not that of annoyance, but instead held both a hint of worry and a hint of relief.

"You were  _ stabbed?" _ squeaked Virgil.

"I don't know what you  _ assumed _ happened." Roman sounded fatigued. Logan pressed a finger against the wound. "Ow! Shit, Logan! That hurts!"

"Maybe it wouldn't hurt if you hadn't gotten stabbed." Carefully, Logan avoided looking at his brother. "Virgil, first aid kit."

"Right!" Virgil sprinted to his bedroom, sticking an arm under the bed to feel around for the first aid kit. Successfully locating it, he ran back, presenting it to Logan somewhat hesitantly, as he'd gotten the feeling he might have interrupted... something. (There had been an awkward silence when he'd walked back into the kitchen, like the two brothers had been having a quiet conversation and had stopped talking when he'd walked in.)

Logan took the first aid kit, setting it on the table. He popped it open, extracting the towel already stained with blood.

"You're still bleeding," Logan said, pressing the towel against Roman's side. "Hold that there." Roman took over, and Logan pulled the roll of fabric bandages out of the box. Virgil brought over a cup of salt water he'd just prepared, and Logan nodded in appreciation.

Unfortunately, this was all too common an occurrence: Roman getting hurt on a mission and returning home wounded. That was why Logan had initially begun learning medicine, although once he'd started learning it, he'd enjoyed both the scientific and the hands-on aspects, and had continued to pursue it for his own interest.

"I'm going to clean it now," Logan warned Roman through pursed lips.

Even with the warning, Roman gasped as the salt water made contact with the cut. "Fuck, fuck, ow, shit." He squeezed his eyes closed, teeth gritted. Virgil watched nervously, chewing his lip, hands in his pockets to stop them from shaking. Though Roman injured was a common occurrence, that still didn't mean Virgil was entirely comfortable with it.

Logan used the part of the towel with less blood to gently dry the wound and wipe away the blood crusting the edges before once more picking up the fabric bandage to wrap a length around Roman's torso.

Logan took a step back, and Roman, wound finally dealt with, took a deep breath, letting it out as a sigh.

"Why don't you go lay down?" persuaded Virgil, gently pulling on Roman's arm, and Roman followed obediently. He'd just lost a lot of blood, he'd almost died, and he was exhausted from it all—he wasn't going to argue. Virgil led him to his bedroom, leaving Logan alone in the kitchen to clean up.

Roman's eyes fixed on something behind Virgil, and he turned to look. "Is that... the rose I gave you?"

Indeed it was. Upon returning home that day, Virgil had partially filled a vase with water, placing the rose carefully inside it. Remarkably, it still looked nearly the same as it had when he was first given it. "Yeah, it is."

Virgil helped Roman into bed, then crawled under the covers next to him, their faces merely inches away. He could feel Roman's breath on his face, and...

"Your breath stinks," smirked Virgil.

"I've been missing for several weeks, I was stabbed, I almost died, and that's the first thing you have to say to me?" cried Roman with mock-indignance, but he was smiling, and Virgil laughed. "I see you haven't changed. ...Did you even miss me?" The last query was said in a low tone, and though Roman attempted to state it as another joke, Virgil could hear the slight hint of worry underneath.

"Of course I missed you," Virgil whispered, blinking quickly in an effort to stop the tears before they escaped. "Did you really doubt that?" With Roman this close, Virgil couldn't help but recall what Patton had told him. "Patton said you, uh... you like me? He didn't want to tell me, but I guilted him into it, sorry—"

The expression in Roman's green eyes, so deep, so complicated, so full of emotion, was enough to make Virgil stop talking. "Why are you looking at me like that?" It was intense—was that gaze really meant for him?

"Why wouldn't I look at you like this?" Roman chuckled, but stopped abruptly as he winced. "And... how do you feel about me?"

That question, simple yet poignant, hung in the air between them.

"I..." Virgil wrinkled his nose as something occurred to him. "Patton said you didn't want me to worry if something happened to you, but was that really the reason you couldn't tell me sooner?"

Roman ran a hand through his tangled hair. "I wanted to, I did! But... the, uh,  _ organization _ I work under doesn't allow dating." Virgil made a face. "I know, it's bullshit, really, but I had to follow their rules."

Virgil frowned. "What'll they do now that I know?"

"I'm done hiding and lying." Roman took Virgil's hand. "I like you—no, I  _ love _ you, and if you'll have me, I'm going to quit my job."

Virgil's mouth hung open. "You're going to quit? For me?"

"Well, there's also the fact I almost died." Roman raised an eyebrow. "I've had close shaves before, some of which you've witnessed the outcomes of, but never quite like that. I never want to go through that ever again."

Virgil chewed on his lip, weighing the decision in his mind. "I do like you," he admitted, cheeks and nose flushed as he avoided Roman's eyes, but he snuck a glance to see that wonderful, terrible, dangerous,  _ beautiful _ grin spreading across Roman's face.

Enthusiastically, Roman pressed a kiss to Virgil's forehead. Although Roman's lips were cracked and dry, Virgil had never felt a sensation quite as amazing. "Great! I'll contact them soon, then!"

"No need." A voice crackled, and Virgil extracted his phone from his pocket to see that the number of the unidentified person from before was on the screen. "It's my job to listen in—well, part of it. I've heard your entire conversation. Your verbal letter of resignation has been received, noted, and accepted. You are no longer one of us." Virgil may have been imagining it, but he thought that, underneath the voice modifications, the person sounded choked up. The crackling, as well as the voice modifier, suddenly cut out, and the caller said one last thing in their natural voice. "Have a good life, Supernova." They hung up.

"Supernova?" Incredulous, Virgil turned to Roman. "What the hell, your code name is so cool!"

"It's really not that glamorous; I mean, the explosion of a star?"

"No, that's awesome!"

"It's not that cool," pressed Roman. "Stop gaping."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say."

Later, the two would have to get up, but for now, they could lay there, Virgil listening in silence, rapt, while Roman told stories of his adventures. Later, Remus and Patton would arrive separately, and their faces would light up, and they'd both hug Roman. Later, the five would gather on the couch, turn on the TV, and put on a movie, but their focus would be on Roman instead of the movie.

All that could wait.

For now, Virgil and Roman could remain undisturbed, curled up even closer, even as Logan sat in a chair at the kitchen table, hands clasped, pondering.

Somewhere else, Remus was taking apart a toaster, and Patton hanging laundry, both unaware of the call they're about to get, one with news that would change their entire day.

Somewhere else entirely, an individual of unknown gender was sitting at a computer monitor in a dimly lit room. Not much of their features were visible in the light of the computer screen, save for the large reddish scar covering the patch of skin around one eye. They were watching the monitor with great interest, observing the two figures lovingly entwined together, green and amber eyes shining with what may have been tears. Their fingers reached out to touch the figures on the screen, but stopped short. "I'm happy for you," they murmured, the slight hint of bitterness in their tone mostly masked by the mixture of sorrow and joy. "It was never possible for me to give you what you needed. I wouldn't have made you happy, but I know he will." They smiled, even through the years. "I hope you two are happy, Roman. Supernova."


End file.
